


No Really, I'm Fine

by trixafaerie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Humor, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixafaerie/pseuds/trixafaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew Stiles liked Derek, and Derek liked Stiles. Except for the idiot boys in question.</p><p> </p><p>A fic with kidnapping, Rock Band, dancing, creeper wolves, puppy lurve, and Stiles being awesome.</p><p> </p><p>(Songfic based loosely off of Spill Canvas songs.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hush, Hush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek watches Stiles sleep like a creeper and then goes home to deal with his pack, oblivious to the fact that Stiles is about to be kidnapped. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♬ I've been watching while you sleep, baby. Hoping I'm the only one to frequent your dreams. I can't take another breath without feeling the regret of my jealousy. Horrified that you might have really lied. Tell me, is it a possibility? I've been nonchalant about the calls at 2 AM. I've seen those hush hush looks you give when you're talking to him. I've heard your undercover tone of voice. The one you use for all the boys. I've witnessed all your sneaking around, in every corner of town. ♬
> 
> (This chapter is based off of "Hush Hush" by The Spill Canvas. [Listen Here](http://youtu.be/urDTD1zuj6U) )

            Derek stared at Stiles through the window pane, watching as the younger man tossed and turned in his sleep. The covers were already rumpled – he knew that Stiles rarely stayed still for more than a second and didn’t let sleep stop that habit. Derek pressed closer, precariously balanced, trying to hear what Stiles was mumbling about in his dreams over the rain and the music the teen had playing on his laptop. Catching his name on Stiles’ lips made his fists clench. Derek knew it was a new kind of torture, him watching Stiles while he was sleeping, but he was still here every night this past week.

            It was his fault that Stiles refused to come to the pack meeting, Derek knew that intellectually, but that didn’t stop his emotions from getting out of control to the point that he sent everyone on their way early just to come over and confront the aggravating little twerp about it, only to find him already asleep. Thankfully alone. And wasn’t that the whole problem, in the first place? Derek was jealous of the time that Stiles was spending with Danny, including sleepovers at each other’s houses. Too often lately Stiles smelled like Danny and it was disturbing to say the least. Yes, maybe, he could have handled it better than accusing Stiles of a stupid secret affair that, at least according to Lydia who chewed him out at the meeting, did not remotely exist, but tell that to his wolf. He was possessive; Stiles knew that, he even seemed to secretly like it sometimes, though never saying anything outright. Plus Stiles _had_ said nothing was going on, and he didn’t necessarily treat Danny any differently than he did Scott or Isaac, so Derek really should not have worried. Right. He wasn’t even sure if it was a possibility, sure Stiles seemed more open to the idea of dating guys as much as girls but Derek was never sure with him what was a joke or not. He certainly hadn't seemed repulsed when Derek kissed him that one time, granted they were both under a fairy spell so that didn't really count. He knew Stiles used to have a major crush on Lydia; everyone was pretty well versed on Stiles’ obsessions after all, but what about _now_? Even though they were not in a relationship, so he really had no say in the matter, Derek didn’t like the idea of Stiles with anyone. Choosing to ignore why that might be, he claimed – because of course Erica asked him about it constantly-- it was just his Alpha instincts, looking out for his pack members. That was logical, right? Right.

            Even if sometimes, when he was alone with his thoughts, he found his brain straying towards Stiles more than anyone else in his pack, it was because Stiles was human and therefore needed more attention and care. Stiles admitted his own fragility to Derek on more than one occasion to prove a point. Though that frustratingly did not stop the younger man from stepping right into the path of danger more times than Derek could even remember now. While part of him was proud of the bravery that Stiles exhibited time and time again, the larger part just wanted to make sure he stayed safe and let the people with better healing ability deal with the problems. Far too often he had Stiles’ blood on his hands and every time he worried if this was going to be the last. Or the time where he had to decide between biting him – which he knew Stiles’ did not want—or watching him die. Derek really did not want to have that conversation with the Sheriff, either, being the one man in town that Derek was legitimately intimidated by.

            However, he still couldn’t explain a lot about Stiles, especially lately. Part of the reason that Derek was so angry with Stiles is that the younger man had been consistently lying to him for weeks. Where he went, Derek didn’t know, he tried to follow but Stiles would inevitably lose his shadow along the way. That alone was unsettling. He had seen Stiles’ attempts to be stealthy as he met with Deaton at night, but that only explained some of the disappearances. Derek followed Stiles once to the club that he had tracked Jackson to that one time, which had also thrown Derek. He didn’t know Stiles had gone here more than once, or what he would be doing here now. No, Derek was not naïve, but he just couldn’t get a read on Stiles. Not to mention the tone of his voice when he talked to the guys outside… Derek didn’t like that one bit. He sounded nothing at all like the constantly chatty teenager Derek thought he had known. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it out of obligation more than anything else. Reading Scott’s name he let out a sigh and opened the message.

            _why r u on the roof? stop creepin n come play xbox if ur gonna be here awhile i just got home -s_

            Derek rolled his eyes, quietly saying “No,” since he knew that Scott would be able to hear him from his room down the hall. It was times like these that he was most frustrated by the oblivious beta. Especially now that their parents had made it official and gotten married, Scott was more involved in Stiles’ life again, if for no other reason than sharing a house. Or lack of Allison, which was obviously the case tonight or else the younger wolf would still be out and not catching Derek staring at Stiles. Again. Jumping down with ease, Derek walked off with a huff. He ran back to his house since he hadn’t thought to take the Camaro when he left earlier in the night. Isaac, Erica and Boyd were still there when he got back, since they rarely left – most of them having nowhere else to go, after all—but he bypassed the living room to go straight to the kitchen. Derek grabbed his hidden bottle of whiskey under the sink, the good stuff he had laced with an unpronounceable herb that he and Deaton accidentally found made werewolves act like they were drunk, since it was normally significantly harder with their metabolism. He didn’t like to drink often, regretting the lack of control and especially after the fire, as it usually led to dark and morbid thoughts, but tonight he was going to make an exception and have some before he called it a night. Grabbing the short tumbler off the shelf he poured three fingers and downed it at once, refilling it again before stashing the bottle and heading into the living room to say goodnight to his pack before heading upstairs.

            “So are you on your period or something?” Erica asked with a laugh as he walked in. “We may have synched, just saying. Why did you run off at the meeting?”

            “Five bucks said it had to do with a certain human pack member,” Boyd mumbled, though he was well aware that everyone in the room could hear him. Sometimes Derek wished he turned betas like Scott, who were naïve and would mind their own business. Or at least would show the proper respect for their alpha, but these three have gotten comfortable enough around him now to poke and prod without fear. He could admit though, at least to himself, that he kind of liked it.

            Isaac tugged on Derek’s arm to lead him to the couch, where they were all playing with the new entertainment system that Jackson and Stiles had put together earlier in the month. For some reason his pack was obsessed with playing Rock Band and even more so with getting him to join them, though they had yet to succeed. Relenting to sitting on the couch with them but not humiliating himself by singing along to… whatever this was. He sipped his glass and watched as Boyd grabbed the drumsticks, Erica grabbed the guitar and Isaac the microphone.

            “Ooh, we have to do this song!” Erica proclaimed with what could only be described as an evil laugh.

            “Why do I always have to sing the girl songs?” Isaac complained but showed no signs of really objecting. Before Derek knew what was happening Isaac strikes a pose and starts out with “Don’t call me Gaga!” Which caused Erica to laugh loudly and Derek to just shake his head at his betas. Boyd was obviously used to both them and the game they were playing as he was currently drumming with his eyes closed and yet getting a perfect score (which is more than he could say for the other two). Derek had never played this game but Laura had been heavily into Guitar Hero which seemed to be setup in a similar way. Moments like this, despite his earlier frustration and their often annoying tendencies, he was glad to have a pack again. That is, until Isaac turned around to start serenading him. “He's a wolf in disguise but I can't stop staring in those evil eyes…”

            With a shake of his head, he moved to get off the couch and go to his room but before he got very far, Erica sat in his lap and executed an overly ambitious and unnecessary guitar solo. Isaac whined when her playing started bringing them down in points until Boyd brought their score back up with a tricky drum combo. Isaac started bouncing around singing “he ate my heart and then he ate my braiiiiin…” and Derek decided to leave them to it. His mood would only bring them down and he was exhausted enough that trudging up the stairs to his bedroom seemed like a lot more effort than it was worth at the moment.  “Don’t cause any trouble,” he said gruffly to the group at large, taking the stairs two at a time.

            “We love you too!” Erica yelled with a laugh. He downed the last of his drink and stripped, falling onto his bed with a huff, trying to tune out the noise downstairs. The last thing he heard was Isaac arguing with Boyd over Aerosmith. Four short hours later, Derek woke up abruptly and regretted the alcohol the night before as his senses were out of whack. Glancing around the room he saw his phone was lit up, buzzing around his nightstand. Assuming that was what woke him, he glanced at the display and sighed. Why was Stiles calling him at 2AM? It better not be because he had a random question about werewolf rituals or something else equally inane.

            “What?” He answered, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

            “Don’t sound so happy to hear from me,” Stiles said dryly, though there was something else in his voice too that made it sound… off.

            “I was asleep, what do you want, Stiles? Can this wait until later?” Derek asked, though he knew he would stay on the phone anyway, since he could hardly fall back asleep now.

            “Uh, I don’t think so, pretty sure I will run out of air before then,” Stiles said, probably hoping to sound flippant but really just coming off as sad. Derek heard him take a deep, calming breath and Derek felt himself doing the same, subconsciously. “I’m pretty sure, fairly certain by the direction we were going, even though I wasn’t able to see where we went but by the amount of turns we took and everything, I’m pretty sure I’m at the cemetery, I’m most definitely in a coffin, thankfully alone, but that doesn’t narrow it down by much really. Luckily, and really going to use that loosely here if you’ll forgive me, they didn’t think to check if I had a phone or anything on me.” Stiles said, all in one breath as he was known to do, especially in emergency situations. Luckily Derek never had any problem keeping up with him.

            Willing himself not to panic yet, or at least not let it come across in his tone, he asked Stiles how long he thought he might have been buried for, if they had knocked him out at all or if he was injured in any way, who it was he thought that took him in the first place, anything that Derek may need to know while staging a rescue. It was a testament to his spending time with Stiles that he even asked the questions instead of charging off to wander aimlessly and sniff around all the gravestones which is what his instincts were yelling at him to do. “Listen Stiles, we’re going to get you out, okay? Just remain calm, the calmer the better, you’ll use less oxygen,” he said, though he was sure that he knew all that, the kid was easily smarter than Derek ever was. “I’m going to hang up and get everyone and figure out a plan, keep your phone on if you can, okay?” He asked, hoping that the battery was full enough that he could call him back once they got there, try and find him that way.

            “Yeah, just… whenever. I’ll be here,” Stiles said with a quiet laugh. Derek rolled his eyes. Leave it to Stiles to try and make jokes at a time like this. “Stay safe, Sourwolf,” Stiles said quietly, before ending the call. Derek dropped his phone when he noticed how tightly he was gripping it. The last thing he needed was to crack it when he needed it to contact Stiles. Dressing as quickly as he could, he yelled for the betas to wake up, hearing groans and grumbles but grateful that they were doing what they were told so far. He sent out the emergency text that Stiles had preprogrammed into his cell, which was the cue for everyone to meet at the Hale house. Stiles had wanted it to just read “Avengers Assemble!” of course, but Derek had vetoed that. Adding a second text to Scott to let him know that Stiles was kidnapped was necessary, both to prove how urgent it was and also so he wouldn’t freak out when he went to wake Stiles up to head out.

            Jumping from the landing instead of bothering with stairs he found his betas in the kitchen, Boyd with a cup of coffee – Derek knew he loved to drink it even though the caffeine didn’t affect them enough to warrant it, Stiles just called it a placebo effect—and Isaac grabbing leftover chicken from the fridge. Erica came around the corner before he said anything, so he gestured for her to take a seat at the island while he explained. He could tell they were all picking up on his anxiety, the fear that was crawling around in his stomach as he tried to focus on the problem at hand. “Stiles is buried somewhere in the cemetery, running out of air,” he said succinctly, ignoring their shocked expressions and continuing on. “There’s a handful of unknowns involved, all he said was ‘not-werewolves’,” Derek said with a sigh. He really would prefer to know what they were up against but he couldn’t blame Stiles for not knowing who they were or why they were here automatically. “Scott should be on his way, but I’m not sure I want to wait. Boyd, call him and Jackson and tell them to meet us at the entrance to the cemetery instead to save time driving back and forth,” he said, just as Isaac’s phone began to ring. It was Lydia, wanting to know what the plan was and when Isaac told her she agreed to get Jackson and meet them at the cemetery.

            Derek parked a block away from the cemetery since there was no parking closer – the town assumed that you would drive past the gates, during the open hours, and if not you shouldn’t need to park anywhere nearby. Meeting up with Scott, Lydia, Jackson and Danny, he tried to stay calm and in charge of the situation, not to let anyone know he was upset in the least. He could be as unfeeling and cold as the next person; his pack knew that more than anyone, it was his default setting. “He’s definitely in there somewhere, I tracked his phone,” Danny said, waving around his phone as he explained. “If I can hack into his, I can get a more precise location but he’s got a lot of password protected firewalls.” Derek sighed. Of course Stiles had to make this harder for them by being paranoid and locking his phone down.

            Lydia squared her shoulders, like a very mini general preparing for battle. “Okay then. Those of the werewolf variety will spread out, start at each gate of the cemetery and work from the outside in. Keep an eye out obviously for the bad guys of undetermined origin, and keep in constant contact by text. Scott your phone better not have some obnoxious ringtone still…”

            “Seriously dude you are not a very good ninja,” Isaac teased Scott, and then looked sad. Derek thought it was probably something Stiles had said before, it sounded like him. “I have maps for everyone,” Isaac supplied, passing one out to everyone. They were pretty basic, just diving up the cemetery into sections with all the plots listed by their assigned numbers. “I checked online on the way over, there are three newish graves which would make it easy to bury someone, those are in red, the yellow are prepped for burials this weekend, and the green are unused plots. There’s blue dots for crypts that have empty slots, in case he’s not underground,” Isaac explained and Derek was surprised he hadn’t thought of that. It would be easier to bury someone without having to do any digging, at least. Derek placed a hand on Isaac’s shoulder in gratitude. Knowledge from his former job was certainly going to come in handy tonight.

            Derek assigned teams – Jackson with Erica furthest away over the small hill since they were the fastest runners, Boyd and Scott to the right with the more populated area, and Derek by himself towards the above ground crypts as they did a perimeter check and worked their way in according to the maps. Allison and Isaac were going to stick near the entrance building as their quadrant had the oldest graves, thus the least likely, and Isaac was going to check the small office near the gate. Lydia and Danny were perfectly capable of defending themselves but would stick close to Allison and Isaac while they communicated with everyone and did their own searching. Danny was still typing away on his screen, trying different combinations to find Stiles’ phone, muttering under his breath. Derek wolfed out partially, letting his senses expand so he could hear, see, and smell better. If he just walked past a crypt he would be able to hear Stiles’ heartbeat, as long as he found him in time. Any other option was just not acceptable. The only problem with being able to smell everything so much better, Derek found out, was that the smell of decay was overwhelming. Which is why he didn’t scent the group behind the crypt until he felt the first bullet hit him dead in the center of his chest. He saw a flash, was surrounded by a dense purple-tinted fog and then unconscious in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is already getting away from me. I wanted it to be silly and songfic-y and now it's getting plot and angst - though trust me, there will still be plenty of fluff and silly crack-ness for those who are more inclined towards that sort of thing. I've already started Chapter 2 - Himerus and Eros - and that should be up hopefully by the end of the weekend. Who needs sleep, after all? :)
> 
> Come bother me on [my tumblr](http://trixafaerie.tumblr.com) if you want!!


	2. Himerus and Eros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets rescued, Derek gets kidnapped, Stiles is a BAMF and kissing happens. But of course there's more to it than that, since when is their lives ever that simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♬ You’re captivating while evading all the questions I have for you like: What exactly makes you tick? When the guilt sets in tell me, what are we going to do? Your tongue is wet with top secret passion, I hope I am the cause of it. You know I, I hate you (No, I hate you more). You know I, I love you (No, I love you more). Yes it’s true. You’ve brainwashed me and now I’m more confused, I still somehow hope I end up with you. I romanticize every single thing I do, especially when it comes to you. I hope to god I mean a little more than the sounds that escape your tired 4AM lips. And oh how I wish I meant a little more than a symphony of heavy breathing and the friction of hips… ♬
> 
> (This chapter is based off of "Himerus and Eros" by The Spill Canvas. [Listen Here](http://youtu.be/3qPHAhoEvEc).)

                Well, there was nothing like being buried alive to give your life some perspective. Stiles didn’t see his life flashing before his eyes or anything, maybe because he was optimistic enough to believe he was going to get out of this alive as he usually did, with the help of his pack. However, since he could hardly drain his phone battery playing Angry Birds until he was rescued, he had nothing else to occupy his time except think. A dangerous pastime, he knew, especially with the way his brain worked. He had called Derek, thankful that he even had a signal on his phone, so now he just had to wait and hope for the best.

                He knew that things between him and Derek were not always great but after a year of being part of the pack, he had no doubt that the alpha werewolf would try his hardest to get to Stiles in time. That certainty allowed him to avoid the almost-panic attack that started when he regained consciousness inside of a coffin. Now he just had to hope that Derek called in the cavalry and strategized instead of racing off blind as he was known to do, without Stiles to rein him in and think logically. Not to say that Derek was not smart, he often surprised Stiles with his quiet intelligence and dry wit, but when the pack was in danger his instinct was to go and help, regardless of danger. He was such a Gryffindor that way. Stiles wondered idly if Derek had ever read Harry Potter, he’d have to remember to ask him sometime. Some vague time when they weren’t busy fighting evil, running for their lives, or screaming at each other. There were still so many things that baffled him with his alpha, he was captivating and confusing and caring and crazy, often at the same time. Stiles really wished he could get inside his head and understand the way he worked, sometimes, but every time he tried Derek skillfully evaded his probing questions. It was really frustrating for Stiles to not be able to get a firm grasp on the stupid sourwolf.

                Primo example, Stiles really did not trust Peter but Derek made no moves against him, and let his crazy, formerly-dead uncle do whatever he wanted. That was just not on. Peter never made an obvious move against the pack and even Stiles could admit he had helped a few times when they were in a bind, but that was hardly enough for Stiles to trust blindly. Or to make up for Peter’s past sins, especially regarding his strawberry blonde angel and the mess he made of her perfect head. He knew Peter was patient and psychotic, possibly the worst combination to exist, if for no other reason than he was extremely unpredictable. And he could acknowledge that Peter was Derek’s last living relative, even if the living part was negotiable and just plain weird, and really he couldn’t expect Derek to have to kill his own uncle _more_ than once, but Stiles still felt more caution was necessary in regards to Peter, his plan and his general whereabouts. Then again, Stiles really felt like he didn’t know that much at all about their friendly neighborhood alpha, especially the things he wanted to know the most. Like if he liked guys, Stiles specifically. Like if he would want to repeat that kiss that happened that they _never_ talk about because the frakkin fairies put a temporary spell on them for some imagined slight in the woods. Like if he would want to creep through Stiles’ window for reasons other than research. Maybe now was not the time to be thinking these things, but Stiles’ brain of course was hardly helpful at the best of times.

                Stiles was not really shocked when he realized he liked Derek, sometime after the whole kanima-at-the-pool incident last year, but he certainly had no idea what to do about it. Still. He was used to crushing from afar, that was all well and fine, except when the majority of your friends –including the person you like-- are werewolves and better at sensing such things. Except, thankfully, Scott, who was his best friend and now stepbro, but not really quick on the uptake. Scott had no problem with the fact that Stiles liked guys as well as girls, which was not a new development in Stiles’ life, in fact Scott was one of the most accepting people he knew. He was just not sure Scott would accept Derek as a possibility for Stiles, however well they got on now that Scott had officially joined Derek’s pack, they weren’t trading friendship bracelets or anything. The idea made him laugh. Poor Scott was probably still recovering from finding Stiles and Danny making out in the backyard at Lydia’s house last month, when they had all celebrated Jackson’s birthday by getting as drunk as possible and making probably bad decisions. He could only imagine if it were him and Derek…

                Thankfully Danny and Stiles could admit they were better off as friends without it being awkward at all. Partly because they both admitted there wasn’t much of a spark between them, and also partly because Stiles was in serious… like, with someone else. Which he’s fairly certain he admitted drunkenly in _detail_ , to Danny (among other things) that night. He should probably follow up with his favorite goalie and have a discussion on what was common knowledge and what was decidedly _not_. Maybe Danny could provide some suggestion on what Stiles should do, because he really had no idea. Derek was so vastly out of his league, even assuming he was into dudes and the fairy thing wasn’t just a fluke brought on by mean, cock-teasing little fairy brats. All Stiles knew was that he felt really guilty after making out with Danny, and that sort of cemented his thoughts on being more pro-active. Because it was one thing to crush on Derek but if he was, admittedly without knowing, stopping Stiles from getting with other people? Well that was not cool.

                Stiles had even tried kissing a couple guys at Jungle, one of the times that Danny, Jackson and Lydia had taken him with them and once when it was just Allison, Lydia and Stiles going, which he preferred. Jackson was still a bit weird to hang out with, they had spent so long decidedly _not_ being friends, that Stiles would not necessarily call them such now, but Jackson didn’t seem to have it out for him as much as he had in the past so Stiles wasn’t complaining. But still, even if it was nice to feel wanted for once, to be the one causing such reactions in others, it just didn’t sit right with him so he always stopped before it got too far. Lydia could tell that Stiles wasn’t into it, no matter how many people she tried to set him up with of either gender, no matter what clothes she tried to get him to wear, but he refused to tell her whom he would prefer to be spending his time with. She would never leave it alone if he did and Stiles would suffer the embarrassing consequences. As per usual in their friendship, really. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

                Just like the embarrassment he dealt with when she decided that the humans of the pack should be trained in basic self-defense, if for no other reason to buy them time in a fight till the cavalry arrived. So between Lydia, Stiles and Allison they were all meeting up once a week to shoot things and pretend to beat each other up. Though usually Stiles did end up getting his ass handed to him by at least one of the girls on a semi-regular basis, even if he wasn’t going to readily admit that to anyone else. His dad had wondered about some of the more visible bruises, but lacrosse was an easy and not inaccurate response. Especially since Isaac was convinced he was solely in charge of improving Stiles’ game, now that they were friends as well as pack, he had extra lacrosse practice as well. Stiles was glad that despite his initial misgivings with Isaac (mostly borne from the younger wolf’s initial power trip when he was first changed and the fact that he seemed to be stealing Stiles’ best friend away from him) he had bonded with him more than any of the other more recent additions to the group.

                He had even convinced his dad to let Isaac stay with them for a couple months while the courts were trying to decide who was going to be his guardian (after he had been cleared of suspicion of being involved with his father’s case) and then when Derek stepped up, Isaac stayed with the Stilinski’s until the construction on the Hale house was finished. Stiles had Scott across the hall now that his dad had finally married Melissa, which was their childhood dream really, becoming brothers for real. However, Stiles and Isaac were more similar in their thought-process and general outlook than he and Scott would ever be, and sometimes Stiles missed it. His dad let Isaac keep his copy of the key, just in case, and Stiles made sure the younger teen knew his window was always available to him should he need it (which was definitely not the case for the rest of the pack, though they hardly paid any heed to Stiles’ wishes regardless). So sometimes Isaac came by unannounced, like when his father’s birthday came around and no matter the circumstances around his death or his behavior before that, Isaac still missed him. Even if Stiles didn’t understand that, after seeing the effects of the abuse on Isaac, he knew all about missing a parent you loved. Not to mention he was an expert hugger, seriously he should try and figure out how to make that a profession. He saw something online once of some girl who charged for cuddle sessions at her house and made a killing, he would be boss at that sort of job. His dad certainly hadn’t batted an eye at Isaac and Stiles curled up in his bed, knowing his son far too well to suspect anything other than what was happening—Stiles offering comfort where he could.

                He never heard the end of it, however, when he saw Derek the next day and the stupid broody wolf got all pissy cause Stiles smelled like Isaac. Like it was any of his business, just like whatever he did with Danny was any of his business, though they had certainly argued about that for awhile. For someone who seemed to barely tolerate Stiles’ existence, Derek certainly made it his pursuit to butt into Stiles’ life whenever and however he saw fit and judge him regardless of facts. So Stiles had taken to avoiding the idiot Hale, locking his window and dodging the tail when he noticed he was being followed by the less-than-subtle creeper. Derek seemed to be everywhere: when Stiles was buying groceries, when he was going to get parts for his jeep, and when he was going to see Deaton for what Stiles had decided to call Magic Lessons, even though that wasn’t entirely accurate. They had figured out with the kanima that Stiles had a bit of something extra but he was a far cry from a witch or whatever Deaton was – and how annoying was it that they still had no idea about that, over a year later? The guy really needed to give them more information on himself, not only the terrible beastie in Beacon Hills on any given week. Seriously if Stiles didn’t know any better, he’d say they were smack dab on a Hellmouth; maybe he should just start calling the good doctor Giles and see what happened?

                So of course, because not a week goes by that something doesn’t go bump in the night, he was researching a weirdness that had pinged off of a case of his father’s when he came across… whatever it was that they were dealing with. Stiles knew hunters were involved, some weird faction that was more intense and messed up than even the Argents it seemed, and also had some sort of warlock or necromancer or player-to-be-determined-later involved, if the freaky simulacrum were anything to go by. So of course Stiles was smart enough by now not to go out at night without being loaded for bear – or more realistically, werewolves—but he had been very ill-equipped to deal with the off-putting, non-people who had taken him and stuffed him in a coffin without so much as a by-your-leave. Since when do the bad guys not want to exchange witty banter with him? It was just plain rude. Stiles prided himself on his ability to be a smart ass even in the worst of situations, but being buried alive kind of put a damper on that.

                Which brought Stiles back to his present situation, where he was stuck waiting to be rescued _again_ , like some sort of damsel -- being easy prey was really getting old. He lit up his phone to check the time again, figuring the Scooby Gang was probably to the cemetery by now, so it was only a matter of time. Assuming he wasn’t unconscious for longer than he thought, he had still already been locked in for an hour now and he was not sure how much longer he would have oxygen. Thankfully he knew better than to try and escape by himself, after seeing just how much that _doesn’t_ work on Mythbusters (and who said TV wasn’t educational?). Assuming they brought Danny, he should be able to find him with his techno-wizardry (which would be awesome if it was a real magic skill) so Stiles texted Danny his passwords to ease the way into hacking his phone, despite whatever embarrassment it might cause, seriously, bigger problems at hand. Glancing down at his texts he saw that Danny was in fact tracking his phone and they were closing in. He turned his ringer on and told Danny to keep calling him and hanging up before getting to voicemail, figuring the super-hearing of his furry friends would hopefully hear his ringtone even in the coffin. There was no use wasting his breath screaming if he wasn’t even sure they could hear him or not, right? He really hoped his silly mishmash of a pack weren’t headed for a trap and were being cautious but also… anytime, now, guys.

                No sooner had he thought it then his phone started going off, playing “Pop That Lock” which was Danny’s ringtone ever since they danced to it at the club. That had to be a good sign, right? Stiles focused on his breathing like Allison had been coaching him, since it was an important part of her super awesome archery skills. He heard thudding noises nearby and knocked a couple times on the lid of the coffin, hoping to help if he could. He felt stupid hearing the knock, muffled against the lining of the coffin but still with less of a thud than he expected – maybe he wasn’t buried, at least? He liked to think that upped his chances. If it came down to it, he could try to escape himself, he just had to find where his pocket knife fell, if it was in the coffin with him or not. Before he really had to plan possible escapes though, the lid of the coffin was being slammed and wrenched open. Stiles had never been happier to see Isaac’s crazy mop of hair. “Stiles, are you okay?” Isaac asked, his face really close between Stiles’ blinks. It seemed like he had asked that more than once, judging by the wide, panicked eyes of his favorite wee werewolf. Stiles hugged Isaac’s neck, taking a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like much more than an hour or more.

                He cleared his throat as Isaac helped him out of the coffin, which turned out to be in the storage shed behind the main office – and Stiles realized it was stupid to be disappointed but it was just anticlimactic, he was fully expecting a dramatic zombie-like, crawling-from-the-grave scenario. Obviously his imagination was a weird place. “I’m okay, I’m good, hey Danny, Allison,” he said absently, noticing the other two in the doorway to the shed. “Where’s the rest of the gang?” He asked as they walked out, his arm around Isaac’s shoulders as the taller boy had his arm around Stiles’ waist, trying to help him walk on legs that were stupidly asleep. Stiles sat once they got to the grass outside, Danny sitting next to him as Allison and Isaac remained standing and alert.

                “They’re on their way back, at least those who answered their stupid phones,” Lydia said, coming into Stiles’ range of vision with a frown and Stiles knew whoever had dared not answer her call would pay for it in strange, creative ways later.  “Oh good, you’re not dead,” she said with a half-smile which probably only Stiles knew as her worried look.

                “Feelin the love, Lyds,” Stiles grumped just for show.

                “Well I finally got you adequate enough, I’d hate to have to break in a new pet, let alone find one that can keep up with me,” Lydia said with a smirk, and all was right with the world. It was moments like this, when he was forced to admit that he just genuinely loved this girl, that Stiles still felt a twinge of regret that he and Lydia would never be a couple. Not only because she and Jackson had some sort of soul-bonding One True Love stuff going on, but also because they really would not fit romantically. But as one of his best friends? Well, he knew if they ever decided to be super villains, they’d run the world in no time and be dressed to the nine’s while they were doing it. But sometimes, when reminded of just how perfect she was, he couldn’t help it. Standing and hugging her in a tight squeeze before she could get out of it, Stiles purposefully ignored the small sniffle that came from the short redhead.

                “Okaaaay, god… get off… you’re so clingy,” Lydia complained for the sake of it, pushing him off but squeezing his hand once before going back to her phone. Glancing up at a small noise, he noticed Scott and Boyd running over to them.

                “Stiles, you’re okay!” Scott said happily, almost tackling him in his haste to hug his best friend. Sometimes his goofy, optimistic stepbrother was really just a puppy. Becoming a werewolf only cemented that, it was not a new concept in the Life of Scott. Stiles glanced around, feeling Boyd pat him on the back once, before going to talk to Isaac quietly. Jackson and Lydia came back next, the former at more of a saunter than anything else.

                “Stilinski, you need to stop being such a lameass and getting kidnapped so often, we had plans tonight,” Jackson griped without any malice behind it.

                “Don’t worry, dude, I’m fine,” Stiles replied with what he hoped was a smirk but probably fell a bit short.

                “Of course, you’re my Batman,” Erica said with a small smile, elbowing Scott out of the way to snuggle into Stiles, head resting on his shoulder. Here was another prime example of an incredible, intelligent, funny, sexy-as-hell girl whom he had genuine l-word feelings for but still… nothing. She had even admitted to having a crush on him before, but no. Of course he had to go and fall for the most unavailable person ever. He could at least be happy that she had Boyd, who worshipped her as the goddess she is. “You’re not allowed to die on me,” she said quietly, into Stiles’ collarbone before squeezing too tight for him to breathe.

                “Hey, Catwoman, no super strength, just fragile bones here okay?” He asked, flailing a bit for emphasis before she let go. He glanced around at the group of them and realized they were still short one grumpy alpha. “Uh… where’s Derek?” He asked, glancing at Isaac and Boyd who appeared guilty.

                “He feels… distant,” Isaac tried to explain. It didn’t take long for Stiles to put the pieces together, that was kind of his thing after all. Of course he had feared this was a trap but when he got out relatively unscathed and saw the group together, he had foolishly hoped that they had won. Just cause he was alive didn’t mean that everyone else was okay, though, he knew that better than most. So of course Derek had to come rescue him and get himself taken in the process. Not killed, not yet, but the only other times Isaac had said he felt distant was when Derek was seriously injured, usually off being tortured somewhere. This really needed to stop being their life. Now all the wolves in the group were looking more and more antsy as they tried to sense their alpha’s connection and came back with what Stiles assumed was like radio static.

                The next hour was all too familiar, with the wolves trying and failing to find a scent, with the group of them going back to the Hale house to regroup, fuel up their stomachs and in the case of humans, add to their weapons. Stiles grabbed his favorite crossbow and handgun, wondering absently what his dad would think if Stiles were to thank him for teaching him how to shoot all those years ago. He changed into what made up his fighting gear- worn black boots, black pants made of some special mesh/cotton material which made it harder for claws or arrows to take out any major arteries, and his lined, reversible hoodie which Stiles had outfitted himself. It was reversible because sometimes he wanted to be stealthy and in ninja gear, and sometimes he didn’t give a fuck who saw him, or when he was bait, and then he would wear it red side out, daring anyone to comment. In between what had originally been two separate hoodies, he had sewn in a flexible metal mesh wrapped in leather through the torso portion, adding protection as well as warmth without hindering flexibility if he had to use a long bow or climb a tree unexpectedly.

                Stiles had outfitted his room at the Hale house, since all the pack members got one regardless of who actually lived there, not with much comforts but more practical things – like a giant setup of computers that Derek had bought for his birthday and an entire wall of gadgets and weapons he and Allison were working on. Lydia similarly chose to take a specially lined room off of the garage instead of a bedroom, because she made it her lab where she made weapons that went boom much to the detriment of whatever big bads were trying to mess with them this week. The futon in the corner with the Batman blanket and closet full of Stiles’ clothes were the only things that would indicate the room as his, other than the giant TARDIS he had Boyd paint on the wall. Once he joined the group back in the kitchen, seeing Allison and Lydia similarly dressed as he was, he grabbed a handful of protein bars and a redbull and nodded towards the door. “We good to go?” He asked Lydia, since she was usually the one who got everyone organized. She would make any military general both proud and afraid for his manhood, most likely.

                Stuffing the protein bars into one of the empty pockets in the front of his jacket, he checked all the other small pockets for the things that should be in there – different plastic vials of wolfsbane, in liquid and powdered form, a hefty packet of mountain ash and other things Deaton had gifted him with or Lydia had cooked up in her only-slightly-evil lair. They all piled into Stiles’ jeep, which his kidnappers had left at the cemetery – and that stupidly peeved him more than being taken in the first place, that he had been knocked out and stuffed into his own vehicle while someone else drove his baby, probably grinding in second more than was necessary just out of spite. It was not quite large enough to carry everyone comfortably, but with Boyd in the back and Allison on Scott’s lap, they made do. Somehow Jackson ended up riding shotgun, but they had bigger issues to deal with at the moment. Stiles explained as he drove what he knew so far about what they were dealing with. Allison had some choice words as comment when he explained his hunters-gone-wrong theory, like it was a personal insult to her, which clearly _not_ but again, bigger fish at the moment.

                Lydia did some quick computer magic, using her small but powerful netbook to narrow down where they could be holding Derek in town, and narrowed it down to two abandoned factories on the edge of town. Of course it couldn’t be some nice little subdivision, just like they couldn’t be trying to fight bad guys and find their missing alpha in the middle of a sunshiney day instead of the doom and gloom of whatever-the-hell time it was in the morning. Stiles did not consider it morning before the sun came up, at the very least, if not until later. Chugging the red bull and driving one handed while keeping up with the conversation and keeping an eye out for his father’s deputies and the turn off to the factory they were looking for was just another day in the life of Stiles: Multi-Tasking Extraordinaire. He should get a badge, or something. Shaking his head to try and stay on track and not let the fact that he hadn’t slept in something like 30 hours get in the way of helping his pack.

                They got to just about where they needed to be and pulled off behind an abandoned tractor trailer, hoping that whoever they were dealing with hadn’t heard them yet as their plan depended on the element of surprise. Fanning out around the building in their pre-assigned groups, and Stiles took a moment to be insanely proud of his pack for working as a team finally, effortlessly, after both he and Derek –and occasionally Lydia-- had drilled it into their heads over and over again and in many different ways. He was feeling pretty confident, or maybe just over-caffeinated, but he had a feeling that they could totally take these guys. He was teamed up with Scott, which wasn’t new because they could easily communicate without making any noise after knowing each other practically since birth and worked well together after hours and hours of Halo. Plus it was just a habit for him to look out for Scott. Allison and Jackson had the left side, since she was one of the only people besides Lydia who would work with him, Erica and Isaac on the right since they were pretty evenly matched, and Lydia and Boyd taking the back door since the large werewolf was the best with taking instruction and could protect Lydia, who was the least physically capable of the pack. Though he could never say that out loud for fear of permanently losing his balls and he had to admit her homemade weapons were completely badass.

                Their basic plan was to go in as quietly as possible, take out any outliers, and find Derek, while getting the pack out alive. Scott and Isaac had complaints that they didn’t need to kill the hunters, just disable them, but Stiles wasn’t taking any chances and wasn’t feeling particularly charitable after being kidnapped and all. So he told them to do whatever was necessary, knowing that at least half his pack was realistic, or bloodthirsty, enough to understand his meaning and follow through on it. He and Scott went in low, Scott wolfed out and glancing left and right repeatedly, while Stiles mostly looked ahead of them, or up, because he had seen enough movies to know that the people who never look up are the ones who get the not-fun surprises. Plus if someone jumped at them from above his bow would possibly work better than Scott’s claws, so he was better to deal with threats closer to them. Stiles couldn’t remember what this factory used to produce, it wasn’t very large and the main area when they got to it had been mostly cleared of equipment. Stiles’ eyes were drawn straight to the back wall, where one of the creepy not-people was carving what looked like runes of some sort into Derek’s chest. Without thinking Stiles fired a bolt straight at the dude’s chest, which barely slowed him down. He could hear gunshots and sounds of fighting elsewhere, so it seemed that it was up to the two of them to get Derek out. “Scott, take care of that creep,” Stiles nodded his head in the direction of the weirdly unsettling dude which Scott did, tackling him to the ground and clearing the way for Stiles to get to Derek.

                He had multiple arrows and knives sticking out of him like a werewolf pin cushion, and he could see a couple infected bullet holes. It was no small miracle that Derek was still alive at this point, since he could see the infection spreading towards Derek’s chest. Stiles started pulling out arrows and knives as he grabbed the wolfsbane powder from his jacket one-handed. Using one of the knives to dig out the bullets as quickly as possible, he poured out some of the powder on the floor, lighting it with the lighter he had taken to carrying and stuffing it none-too-gently into Derek’s wounds. Stiles knew he was in bad shape when even that barely roused the werewolf, since the pain had to be intense. At least the more minor wounds were starting to heal now that they were free to do so and the angry black veins in Derek’s arm and stomach were receding somewhat. He tried to shoot the chains with his gun to get Derek down but seriously strong hands came around his throat from behind and Stiles cursed loudly at his slipup of not paying attention. 

                “Stiles!” Isaac called from the catwalk above the open area, still fighting a female hunter with surprisingly agile moves. From what he could see, Scott was still wrestling with the other non-person, slashing but not slowing the guy down at all.

                “Little busy!” Stiles yelled back, twisting enough to get out of the chokehold. The guy’s hands were like clay, or rubber, and cold enough to feel too much like a cadaver for Stiles’ comfort. They seemed impervious to arrows and bullets and claws, but on the plus side they didn’t seem very intelligent. Stiles was all about looking on the bright side of life and all that, but right now he was a little preoccupied trying to think through everything he had read in the last two days that could help him figure out how to kill these things while keeping it from killing _him_. Facing the thing, he could see where it was more a concept of a person rather than an actual one. Like the fact that the two that were in the room at least were carbon copies of each other, like really creepy, violent lifelike dolls but dolls nonetheless. Grabbing a small vial from his pocket, he emptied a clip into the thing, which only slowed it down but that was enough time for Stiles to thumb the lid off the vial and throw it at the guy, who erupted into flames but kept coming. Okay, officially the creepiest thing he’s seen this week, he thought as he grabbed the smaller vial and his lighter. Lydia had made many different types of explodey things, like the delicate flower that she was, and Stiles had never been more thankful. An idea was forming in his head and when the non-human got close enough for Stiles to feel the heat – and the smell, ugh, he would not be able to get that out of his nose for a week—he pitched the flaming vial into the thing’s open mouth, backing up and counting down until the creature just exploded into tiny, fiery bits, some of which got way too close for Stiles’ comfort.

                Well, that worked. He supposed most things would die if you barbequed them and blew them up. Somehow he ended up covered in blood and gore, of course, this was his life. At least he hadn’t caught fire? He was fully putting that in the plus column. Turning to see Scott still fending off the other evil clone dude, who was now missing an arm and a chunk of his side but still pretty persistent in fighting with Scott. Self preservation was clearly another thing they were lacking. Checking his pockets he realized he had packed only one of the small vials, the larger ones needed an impact to ignite, which made them ideal for long-range fighting but not if he wanted to explode the dude from the inside necessarily. Well, time for plan B, Stiles was nothing if not adaptable. “Scott, get him on the ground,” Stiles called, grabbing a piece of rusty sheet metal and slamming it down on the thing’s neck with all his strength, grateful when Scott added a bit of werewolf mojo to the mix or else he wouldn’t have been able to get through the bone. He should look into getting a sword; he would look badass with a sword. The body, even with the head removed, continued to twitch like it wanted to keep going so he nodded for Scott to backup and tossed a vial at him, watching the flame erupt around the body and peter out eventually. “Can you slice through the chains with your claws? We can worry about the frakkin’ manacles when we get back to the house,” Stiles heard Isaac yell from above before jumping down, landing with the perfect werewolf grace that Stiles would never be able to emulate. Scott climbed up one of the beams, slicing through the chains after a few attempts and Isaac and Stiles were able to catch Derek, who was getting more lucid. “Where’s Erica?” He asked, worried that they weren’t out of the woods yet. Or the warehouse, as it were.

                “She’s fine, she went to meet up with Boyd and Lydia to make sure they didn’t need any help,” Isaac offered. “So, exploding them was your best idea?” He looked both amused and horrified to see the amount of blood on Stiles and all over the floor. Stiles had to admit that the place looked like the scene of a particularly bad horror flick at the moment. Complete with burning flesh smell!

                “Hey, it seemed to work didn’t it?” Stiles argued, jumping when he felt Derek grab his leg from where he was sprawled on the floor and groaning. “Morning grumpypants, welcome back to the land of the living,” Stiles said flippantly to cover the fact that his pulse was racing. He wasn’t aware just how worried he had been until Derek seemed to turn the corner and really started healing, complete with waking up. Scott ran off in search of Allison and Isaac kept an eye out while he checked on Derek. He could tell when Derek registered his surroundings, because he started to panic a bit at the smell and seeing Stiles covered in blood probably didn’t help much. The alpha staggered to his feet, hands moving over Stiles to check for injuries with wide eyes. “Hey, Derek, chill, I’m fine, it’s not my blood, not even sure it’s human blood or maybe it is but those things certainly weren’t but we’re good, you’re okay,” Stiles said in one breath, in the next he was being… hugged? By Derek? This was a strange new development but not one he had any problems with in the least.

                “I hate how you think you can just charge headfirst into danger and think nothing bad will come from it, you know that right?” Derek grumbled in his ear, voice strained. Stiles tried not to laugh, because really Derek was one to talk, considering the shape they found him in.

                “Yeah well, I hate you more, deal with it,” Stiles said without any heat, hating that he sounded like a five year old. “My life was relatively normal before all this werewolf nonsense, you know, I had dreams about getting the girl and making first line, not about living to see graduation. My free time was spent playing video games, watching porn, whatever, not looking up more inventive ways to kill things and putting everything else to the side for whatever you guys needed, and doing more first aid than most ER nurses…” he griped, cause really? He had just saved the idiot’s ass and Derek had the gall to say that he hated Stiles for being the one to do it, _again_ , when a simple thank you would have sufficed? Yeah, Stiles wasn’t really that upset, even through the angry fog he could tell that, his words were really just words, he loved his pack and that wouldn’t change, but it didn’t stop him from wondering what might have been from time to time. He had regrets just as much as the next person. But most of the time when he and Derek argued it was just for the sake of arguing than whatever happened to be said and now was no different. Added to that, Stiles was now running on no sleep, barely any food and was just plain _tired_ , of bad guys and kidnappings and avoiding his feelings for the most annoying person in the world. The stubborn jackass who would have died if not for Stiles and what was with the continued hugging thing and really, Stiles should not have the ability to be turned on right now, now was the furthest from an appropriate time as he could possibly get and he was still so _angry_ at Derek, and that was really nothing new and now he felt like there was just too much going on and his brain needed to slow down and he needed to breathe, possibly, sooner rather than later.

                “I don’t really hate you,” Derek said quietly, a weird expression on his face when he let go of Stiles. He could have sworn he had all the alpha’s frowny faces memorized by now but this was something new, and that threw him off to the point that he barely registered what he had said. Oh yeah, he _didn’t_ hate him, hooray. Well that was all well and good when Stiles was fairly certain he was falling in love with the asshole. Cause this was his life. Whatever, bigger things to deal with than his confusing not-relationship with the older werewolf. Like what the hell with the creepy not people? Walking over to the charred remains of the decapitated body, he noticed that there was no belly button on the exposed torso. Well that was certainly a sign, right? It reminded him of the flesh people in that episode of Doctor Who, and really, when your life starts emulating a sci-fi show, it’s taken a turn for the ridiculous.

                “Well they were weird and off-putting,” Stiles said to the room at large, noticing that Jackson and Lydia had joined them, Jackson looking a bit worse for wear but without any visible injuries. Lydia looked perfect as always, even with the tiny bit of soot on her cheek. Boyd walked in with Erica, who was cradling her arm like it was broken and healing, but slowly and painfully. “Where’s Scott and Allison?” He asked, hoping they were just slow or more likely distracted by making out, rather than in any trouble at all.

                “She called her father to do cleanup and deal with the hunter side of the mess, and Scott went to get the jeep so we didn’t have to walk back, we’re good,” Boyd said, ever the helpful one. Isaac was looking back and forth between Derek and Stiles with a weird expression, but said nothing as he walked towards the door when they presumably heard the jeep pull up. “Let’s get home,” Boyd said, glancing at his strangely quiet alpha with a pained look before slipping an arm around his back, helping Derek shuffle towards the door. The fact that Derek still needed help worried Stiles a bit, he normally would be better by now, maybe he had missed a wound? When they got outside Stiles noticed that it was much lighter out than when they had left, the first rays of dawn cresting over the trees and making everything seem strange and softer, somehow. Everyone piled in somehow, and Stiles grimaced as once again he was going to have to scrub unmentionable things out of his upholstery. When they got back to the Hale house, the ride having been strangely quiet, everyone went off to cleanup. Stiles was glad that Derek had thought ahead to remodel the house from the original plans to add more bathrooms for times like this cause who wanted to wait around, covered in blood, while someone else used up all the hot water? Not Stiles, that’s for sure.

                Without a backward glance to the rest of them he headed towards his room, stripping in the bathroom and stepping into the shower with a sigh. He wanted to be in there for hours, letting the warm spray beat down on his back but after scrubbing himself from head to toe twice, just to make sure there were no more bits of flesh on him, he stepped out in favor of food first, followed by sleep. Wrapping a towel around his waist and stepping around the bloody mess of clothes on the floor (really, tomorrow’s problem), he stepped out of his bathroom into a wall – or more accurately, Derek. “Uh, dude, personal space!” Stiles said with a manly-type squeal, he was sure. He could tell Derek had already showered and was feeling better, or at least he looked back to normal, except for being all up in Stiles’ personal bubble, though really that was relatively normal for them and how was that fair when Derek looked like _that_? How was Stiles supposed to react? Derek had basically brainwashed him into thinking that slamming people into walls was a form of foreplay or something, he shouldn’t find that a turn on at all he was fairly certain.

                And speaking of slamming Stiles into walls, Derek had him pinned against the door before Stiles even registered it happening, and all of a sudden hey, lips were on his, Derek’s lips, _ohmygod_ , Derek’s lips and his and this was totally fine, 100% okay with him, he was not objecting, the opposite of objecting really, considering the way his hands found their way to Derek’s damp hair to pull the alpha back again when he had stopped briefly. Pulling away was bad, more kissing was good, that was all there was to it. He would have to talk to Derek about the kissing thing eventually, and how it was a thing that should happen on a regular basis, like once an hour at least, but that was for later, you couldn’t have a conversation while someone else’s tongue was in your mouth, though Stiles was sure if anyone could that he would have a good shot at it cause him not talking was like blasphemy and _ohmygod_ , Derek’s hips were pressing his against the wall and he was fully aware that Stiles was only wearing a towel and said towel was sort of running for the hills or at least trying to slide towards the floor when hands gripped Stiles’ hips, probably hard enough to bruise but again, tomorrow’s problem, right now kissing. Kissing Derek. Which was when Stiles’ brain started to get rebellious and start to wonder _why_ Derek was kissing him, now especially, and maybe he was just a bit suspicious by nature but considering the only other time this had happened, nasty fairies were involved, he felt like there might be a correlation here and that was just royally _unfair_. Pushing at the solid chest of the only-slightly-taller man, he let out a sigh when their lips parted. “Derek,” he started when the alpha moved to sucking on Stiles’ neck instead. Trying not to get distracted, and really really failing, Stiles pushed back again with a groan. “Stop, think, why are you kissing me?” He asked, ignoring how sad his voice sounded in his own head.

                “To thank you,” Derek said simply, voice a deep rumble in Stiles’ ear. “I can tell you’re enjoying it, what’s the problem?” He asked, leaning back to look at Stiles. Stiles closed his eyes for a second against the hurt, taking a deep breath and pushing the other man away again, needing space more than anything right now. Cause of course, this was a thousand times worse than fairy magic, this was Derek’s doing, but it meant nothing. Stiles wanted it to _mean_ something, mean more than just some sort of pity fuck, and he didn’t think he could accept anything less. Derek looked confused when Stiles opened his eyes, refusing to let Derek see how affected he was.

                “Yeah well, that’s enough thanks, you can go now,” Stiles said quietly, but it didn’t matter, he knew the werewolf could hear him.  What mattered was Stiles getting clothes on, getting out of here as quickly as possible. Derek looked like he wanted to say something, decided against it and just turned and left, shutting the door behind him. Stiles let his legs slide out so he was sitting on the floor, knees up to his chest and just focusing on his breathing. When he thought he had himself under control, he threw on the first clean things he found in the closet and went out to the jeep, thankfully not seeing anyone in the house on his way out. He was glad he had thought to put towels on the seats before they were covered in gore so he wouldn’t get his clothes bloodied up again. Tossing the towels on the ground he hopped in and drove off, figuring Scott was probably already in his room with Allison or could find his own way home. Stiles cranked his music up loud to drown out his own thoughts and got home in record speed, grateful to see that both his dad and Melissa had already left for work so he could just go upstairs and flop onto his bed without an interrogation. He was asleep in minutes; thankful that his body let him just shut down, and deal with it all later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this wasn't up by the weekend, had a bit of a family thing to deal with. And sorry it's not exactly a happy ending, but there will be more kissing and eventually they'll figure it out, hopefully? Thanks for reading! Next chapter is called "Catching Sparks" and will involve sexy bad guys and a mandatory club night. :)


	3. Catching Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and the pack go to investigate the new club in town, have a run-in with a well-meaning sex demon and end up chasing the slimy sorcerer in charge of it all out of town for good. With more kissing. And leather. And Rock Band.
> 
> (Yeah... I hate summaries. _Alternate (Suggested) Title:_ Sex(y) Demons And The Boys Who Hate To Love Them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♬ Slip, trip, and fall! Well I'm down for the count. I can feel the numbing in my fingertips, I'm catching sparks and they're tickling my cheeks from the chemistry between us. The colored lights are spilling on your face, and the swaying of your hips leaves me speechless. The dance floor's empty as my heart begins to race... Please don't stop 'cause I need this. Slip, trip, and kiss me! Oh, I'm gaining back my senses, tasting the air that surrounds you. I place my hand behind the small of your back and we're dancing… ♬
> 
> (This chapter based off of "Catching Sparks" by The Spill Canvas. [Listen here.](http://youtu.be/Jv4_qpcnCJ4))

            Derek wasn’t sure what exactly he had done wrong, but he knew he had to be at fault, _again_. Stiles had been absent for the better part of a week now and even when Derek stopped by his house he was either not there or he was asleep, window locked and blinds closed shut. He knew he could be obtuse sometimes but even he got that as a clear Do Not Enter sign. He knew he should have never kissed the younger man, he knew it, but he did it anyway because he was happy that they were both alive and just once he wanted something for himself. He thought the younger boy was into it but maybe it was just hormones and when he realized he was kissing Derek specifically, he was repulsed? Derek wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to thank Stiles, the kid had once again gotten all of them out of a bind intact, but it was so much more than that. Derek could have tried to explain, but he didn’t want to push himself on Stiles, wanted to respect his decisions and choices and when the stubborn human had insisted he leave the room, Derek obliged him. He didn’t expect Stiles to leave without word and completely shut him out after that. How was he supposed to fix it when Stiles wasn’t even answering his texts?

            Derek tried not to let it get to him, refused to talk to the others about Stiles since they had obviously seen him since, the kid would come back or he wouldn’t that was his choice. Ignoring Lydia’s pointed remarks was something he was used to and the betas just got extra training since he was feeling particularly foul. The extra workouts and training and studying would hardly hurt the pack at all and it provided Derek a welcome distraction. The last thing he wanted to think about was Stiles lips against his, his long fingers in Derek’s hair, or how Derek’s hands had seemed to fit so perfectly at Stiles’ hips. It was hardly beneficial to anyone for him to get distracted thinking about Stiles in only a towel, he was the Alpha and his pack deserved him to be at his best and most focused. So that’s what he dealt with, figuring his love life, or lack thereof, was hardly more important and would sort itself out, or not, one way or the other. Derek took a calming breath and tried to get his mind to quiet, he was so all over the place today that he wondered if that’s what it was like for Stiles all the time. He was currently in their makeshift gym, putting himself through the most grueling workout he could think of to tire himself out enough to sleep tonight since the longer Stiles was ignoring him, the worse his rest had gotten. He was so focused on what he was doing and working so hard to focus only on that, that he didn’t notice he was no longer alone until someone cleared their throat behind him.

            And of course as soon as Derek let out a breath he recognized that erratic heartbeat. Stiles. Turning quickly he noticed that the teen looked hesitant to enter the room fully, eyes not meeting his until Derek stepped closer without meaning to. “Where have you been?” He asked before he could stop himself, schooling his voice to not betray the hurt he felt but ended up sounding angrier than he meant in the process. That was not the way he wanted to talk to Stiles, to explain his erratic behavior lately, he just needed to get himself in check before he made a mess of things. Again. “I mean, you’ve been busy lately?” He tried again, hoping to get Stiles to open up and explain his absence.

            The fidgets were normal, Derek was used to seeing Stiles constantly moving, but he knew that to some degree they were a diversion, something to keep people focused on so they wouldn’t look too closely at the source. Derek knew all about diversion, after all it was much easier to keep people at arm’s length than to let them in, to be vulnerable; at least he assumed that Stiles gesticulations were not just a byproduct of his ADHD but without outright asking the boy he couldn’t know for sure. Gesturing for him to take a seat on one of the chairs in the corner, Derek took the other one, turning it around and sitting on it backwards. Leaning his arms on the back of the chair, he raised a brow, waiting for Stiles to say something, anything. “So... we have a possible issue to deal with,” Stiles says finally, sitting only to get back up and pace back and forth in front of Derek. “I was helping my dad at work the other day, cause I was out past curfew and as punishment I had to file all his old paperwork in the back room, so I just happened to overhear that there’s been a large increase of drug overdoses at the new nightclub in town, which is suspicious enough as is right? I mean, in the human world that’s a red flag big time, but when I looked at the ME’s report uh, at lunch, there were a lot of discrepancies and irregularities that lead me to believe that there’s something supernatural going on…” Stiles took a breath, running a hand over his head a couple times. So I went over there – don’t look at me like that, I took Lydia with me as backup, and nothing bad happened to us obviously—but there’s definitely weird markings on one of the doors and the people in the club were on some weird shit, not acting like most drugs but I think more… out there,” he explained in a rush.

            Derek was not at all happy to hear that Stiles went off without him to deal with some unknown threat and all the possible ways it could have gone wrong flashed before his eyes. It took every ounce of control he had to not outright yell at the teen, instead resting his forehead on his arms and focusing on breathing and not “wolfing out” as Stiles called it. “You could’ve been hurt,” he said quietly, to the floor. “You should have called me.” He tried not to let his anger get the best of him, tried to focus on the discussion and task at hand.

            “I know I just didn’t want to bother you until I knew more, in case I was wrong…” Stiles said, looking agitated. “I’m sorry for not calling, but I am fully capable of taking care of myself, was doing it for years before the pack, so yeah, sometimes I don’t consult with everyone before I leave the house, but even if I am in your stupid pack I am capable, more than most of your betas, of making my own decisions!”

            Derek stood, kicking the chair to the side of the room and standing toe to toe with Stiles. “We are supposed to be a unit and that doesn’t work if you go off half-cocked without a care, without any idea of what to expect or who you were up against! You are always yelling for us to think before acting and yet you don’t practice what you preach?” He yelled, angrily running a hand through his hair and resisting the urge to pull it out in frustration. Before he could say anything else to Stiles, who was staring at Derek and looking tempted to deck him, Isaac jogged down the steps, looking annoyed.

            “You two!” Erica yelled, shoving both of them in the shoulder towards the table and chairs. “Sit. Down. And cut the shit. We’ve been trying to study upstairs and ignore the angry foreplay or whatever you call this but seriously, what the fuck?” Derek sat at the small table but Stiles just nodded like he was having a conversation with himself and walked out of the room. “What was that?” Erica asked when he left.

            Derek let his head drop to the table in frustration and sighed. “We have a problem to deal with,” he said grumpily.

            Erica patted his head with a laugh. “The problem is you need to stop yelling at Stiles so much and just tell him you lurrrve him,” Derek looked up with a frown and she just smirked at him.

            “I’m pretty sure I liked it better when you were all afraid of me,” Derek complained, though he didn’t mean it. Erica reminded him too much of Laura and the way she used to rag on him constantly, so while he often found it annoying as hell, it was also familiar and comforting in some way, like they were a family as well as a pack.

            “Oh please, your bark has always been worse than your bite,” Erica ruffled his hair and walked back upstairs, yelling over her shoulder as she went. “Isaac’s making spaghetti in a few minutes, stop pouting and come join us if you want.”

            Derek sighed, going to his room to change out of his workout clothes and take a quick shower. Grabbing his phone he headed back downstairs and sat at the table, explaining to Isaac, Erica and Boyd what Stiles had told him and what he planned to do about it.

            “Oh, I’m going to need a new outfit if we’re going clubbing!” Erica said with a laugh. “So, Saturday? Cool.”

            ***

            Derek could have sworn he just told the three of them, but come Saturday Jackson, Lydia and Danny were at the house when he got there and evidently Allison and Scott were going to meet them there. “I don’t want everyone involved, too many variables, plus Stiles and Lydia were already seen there… This is going to be a mess,” Derek said to Boyd, since the two of them were alone on the porch.

            “We’re a pack,” Boyd shrugged. “We’ll be fine.”

            “We won’t be able to bring weapons in to even the score,” Derek pointed out, thinking of the humans in the pack and how they wouldn’t be able to naturally defend themselves as easily. “And a group this large will stand out.”

            “Stop worrying, boss,” Boyd patted his shoulder as he walked past. “Erica’s got a plan.”

            “Oh good, as long as _Erica_ has a plan,” Derek said sarcastically, rubbing his eyes and going to change out of his everyday clothes and into something more nightclub appropriate. Walking into his room he noticed clothes on his bed, tags still attached. He sighed, seeing Erica at work here. “I can dress myself, you know,” he said to himself, though knowing that his betas would be able to hear him downstairs.

            Lydia walked in with a smirk. “Erica and I went shopping, thought you needed something more… fun,” she stood in the doorway, hand on her hip. “If you’re fully against the pants, black jeans would be acceptable, maybe,” she said as a peace offering. “Now hurry and get dressed, she’s almost done helping Isaac with eyeliner,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

            Derek grabbed the pile and went into the bathroom for a quick shower and change. He considered shaving but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. He put some gel in his hands and ran it through his hair, calling it done. Unfolding the clothes he saw multiple shirts—or top options, since one was just mesh it could hardly be considered a shirt—but the only pair of pants were leather and looked far too small. Derek preferred his jeans to be fitted, not tight, but jean also stretched and these looked like they wouldn’t. At _all_. Deciding to take the option of NOT wearing the pants they picked out, he just threw on the black tank and his nicest pair of black jeans, grabbed his jacket and boots and headed downstairs. “Everyone ready?” He asked Boyd and Lydia, who were sitting on the couch talking.

            “Just waiting on Jackson, even though he said he was done before we left the house,” Lydia waved her hand dismissively. Erica and Isaac walked in laughing, Isaac wearing shiny silver pants and a sheer black long sleeve shirt. His hair seemed curlier than normal and the eyeliner looked strange, but at least no one was forcing Derek to put makeup on. Erica had on a shiny blue one-sleeved dress with her knee high boots. Boyd was wearing a similar outfit to Derek’s, with a blue stretchy t-shirt instead of his black tank. Lydia’s dress was very sparkly and her heels added a half foot to her height. Derek couldn’t help but think that if things went badly they would only be a hindrance in a fast getaway. Jackson and Danny came into the room, Danny wearing a muscle shirt that laced in the front and glitter in his hair. Jackson was wearing a green shirt and dark grey dress pants that looked far too expensive for what they were all apparently going for, but that was Jackson for you. At least he didn’t have to worry about Stiles and McCall mucking things up. Or getting themselves hurt.

            “Can we go now?” Derek asked, getting impatient. This was supposed to be easy and not such a production.

            “Yep, everyone’s ready!” Erica said happily, sauntering towards the door and out to the Camaro, calling shotgun immediately. Jackson and Lydia got into Danny’s Yaris without much discussion. When they got to the club, Derek immediately noticed that the car Danny parked next to was Allison’s and that she and Scott were inside it. Oh good, more of his pack to watch out for in a crowded, possibly dangerous situation. Just another Saturday then. If McCall was on the invite that meant Stiles was around somewhere inevitably. The thought made the hair on the back of Derek’s neck stand up a bit, having done some research on the club’s owner and not liking what he found. The man he wanted to talk to was now going by Gregor Gorodetsky but he had a list of aliases a mile long if the file Stiles provided was any indication. Derek had met a couple sorcerers and one memorable warlock while in New York but most of the time they kept under the radar and were solitary by nature. The sorcerers he knew generally tended to make amulets, tokens, charms and the like and sell them to the supernatural community. Gregor had been here about a month and already had the police looking into his affairs for the pile of dead humans, which was hardly the kind of attention he would want if he was catering towards a more supernatural subset.

            “Oh good, you’re here!” Scott said, getting out of the car and fist-bumping Isaac. “So, we going to check out what the deal is with this place?” He asked the group at large. He was wearing a black button up shirt with crazy silver designs, which looked like an almost intentional match to Allison’s sparkly silver and black dress. Nobody mentioned Stiles, so Derek didn’t ask, hoping he was home tonight.

            Derek gave them all instructions on what to look for, things to steer clear of and general rules of behavior to avoid being too noticed or get into any sort of trouble, though he had a feeling those fell on deaf ears. They were all let into the club without asking for IDs, which was strange as Derek was the only one of them over 21, but whatever Lydia had said to the bouncer cleared the way. The main floor of the club was a few steps down from the door, large and industrial looking with colored lights flashing and a huge bar on the left. The DJ booth was on the right and some tables in the back, leaving the middle for a giant dance floor already full of people only broken up by small platforms with dancers on them. The music was really loud, almost uncomfortably so. There were steps off to the side with another bouncer, who was obviously fae, if his nose was any indication. He would have to check that out in a bit.

            “I reserved us a booth along the back wall so we could have a meeting spot,” Lydia explained. “If anyone asks, it’s my birthday!” Jackson laughed as she pulled out a small tiara from her purse. “Shut up, the cost for the booth meant that we all got in without argument or worry about IDs, and I can be a princess if I damn well want to.”

            “We’re going to dance!” Erica said, grabbing Boyd’s hand. “To look for uh… suspects!”

            “I’m going to talk to the bartender,” Danny said with a smile, since the guy wasn’t currently wearing a shirt. “Find out some information for you guys.”

            “Jackson, go with him and get me a drink,” Lydia insisted, sitting in the u-shaped booth like the queen she was despite the tiara. “Derek either sit or do something, you look weird just… hovering. You should have a good time, multitask and all.”

            “I’m going to go dance,” Isaac said with a shrug after a few minutes. “I love this song!”

            Derek sat with his back to the wall, surveying the crowd. He could see a few people who seemed to be having _too_ much of a good time on the dance floor and there was a weird sense to the air, though it didn’t feel like a spell. He felt himself relaxing as he sat and chatted with Lydia and Jackson, Danny having decided to stay by the bar and be social. Somewhere during the dancing Isaac had come back without a shirt, which made Derek laugh to himself. Derek made a couple rounds of the room and talked to people here and there but most of them seemed to be too intoxicated to be much help. Everyone was having a good time and it was very… coupley on the dance floor at the moment. He was fairly certain some of the dancing was past indecent at this point, like the way that guy in the shiny strapped pants was grinding on the go-go boy on one of the podiums. Wait. He recognized that shaved head. _What?_ No but… what? Stiles turned enough for Derek to see him in profile, eyes bright and a flush to his cheeks. Without realizing what he was doing, Derek had walked over to where they were dancing; his pulse racing with the desire to be the one Stiles was dancing with. In a swift movement, he grabbed one of the straps criss-crossing Stiles’ pants and yanked him backwards off the short platform, causing the younger man to spin and try and catch himself but finding himself caught instead. Derek’s arms easily caught Stiles close to him, their fronts ending up plastered together. Stiles’ fingers looped themselves into Derek’s belt loops and he grinned at Derek, as if it was a happy surprise to see him. Derek had to find out what the stubborn human was doing here. “What are you wearing?” Derek asked instead, breathing into Stiles’ ear to be able to be heard over the music.

            Stiles smirked in response. “Do you like it?” He asked, moving his hips in time with the music which just meant that he was rubbing himself all over Derek since they were so close. Derek felt momentarily speechless as the colored lights illuminated Stiles’ eyes and the music changed to something less frantic, more inherently sexual with a heavy bass beat.

            Derek’s eyes followed the path of a bead of sweat from Stiles’ temple to jaw line, hardly aware of his own movements as his tongue travelled up the long line of Stiles’ neck to catch it. Stiles let out a shuddering breath and caught Derek’s lips in a desperate kiss. Derek’s hands slid up from Stiles’ arms to his neck, thumbs caressing as he deepened the kiss, sliding one of his legs between Stiles’. He didn’t think about the fact that they were in the middle of the room and hardly even dancing anymore, the dance floor was empty for all he cared. He felt like Stiles’ lips were electrifying him and he never wanted it to stop. Eventually Stiles broke away for air so Derek shifted to nibble his way to the younger man’s neck, sucking a mark with a pleased sound. “Mine,” he said with a slight growl, lips pressed against Stiles’ collarbone.

            “Of course you two are a step away from having sex on the dance floor, and here I was hoping _one_ of you might at least show some restraint,” Lydia said with a roll of her eyes, standing beside them with her hands on her hips. “So, I figured out part of the problem, if you’re interested at all. There’s a half-Jahi girl at our booth who can explain better if you’re coherent enough to understand. Basically, there’s something in the air,” she said with a laugh. “Obviously.”

            Derek inhaled deeply but all he could smell was an overabundance of sex pheromones, which he could have told her by just looking at the dance floor. Lydia slipped something in Stiles’ pocket, causing him to look like he just woke up from a very pleasant dream. “Oh… hey you,” Stiles said, eyes wide as he realized how close he was to Derek, his hands still around his waist as Derek still had an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. “Um, Lydia, would you mind getting me some water? We’ll be over in a minute,” Stiles said dismissively, inching away and indicating with his eyes that they should go towards the alcove near the bathrooms. Derek didn’t want to lose contact altogether so he kept his hand on Stiles’ lower back as they navigated their way across the dance floor. Reaching the secluded corner, Stiles shoved him into the bathroom, shoving the doorstop behind him to prevent anyone else from entering. Derek just leant against the sink counter, watching Stiles as he cracked open the tiny window near the stalls. “You need to clear your head,” he explained to Derek.

            Derek just eyed Stiles, trying to ignore the desire to shove him against the wall and kiss him senseless. “My head is fine. Are you going to get angry _every_ time I kiss you?” He asked curiously with a raised brow, hoping that wasn’t the case. First with the fairies, then last week, and now… Every single time Stiles had seemed as desperate as Derek, but then he was distressed afterwards.

            “Every… _God_ , Derek, just… splash some water on your face or something, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Stiles said sadly, rubbing his hands over his face with a groan.

            Derek stepped up in front of him, gently pulling on Stiles’ wrists to move his hands from his face. “I know that I want nothing more than to kiss you right now, why is that a bad thing?”

            “Cause it’s not real! You’re being influenced, everyone is! Except Lydia, of course, cause of her weird negative bubble where magic and the supernatural is concerned. She was able to snap me out of it with the one of the sachets that she was working on after last week when we noticed something was wrong. I’m just glad that she was smart enough to bring it with her,” he said all in a rush, eyes not meeting Derek’s.

            Derek snorted. “You really think I could be influenced to do something that I didn’t want to do? Sure, it was getting a bit out of hand out there, but it wasn’t just out of nowhere. Obviously I’ve wanted to kiss you for a year now, but you were so upset over the fairies I just assumed you didn’t reciprocate the feeling. I was trying to respect your wishes by leaving you alone. I slipped up last week, but I was just happy that you were alive and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry if I was out of line, you’re right in that I was influenced by whatever’s happening out there, but it wasn’t unfounded—“ Derek was interrupted by Stiles mashing their lips together. It was uncoordinated and perfect and just for a second, Derek wanted to forget that he was the alpha and they had other things to deal with at the moment.

            “I can’t believe…” Stiles shook his head with a surprised smile.

            “Well, you’re an idiot,” Derek said with a laugh and a shrug.

            “Hey!”

            “Well.”

            “Well… you’re not wrong, cause I feel like an idiot thinking that we could have been doing _that_ , or other things, for awhile now if _one_ us had just said something…” Stiles sighed. Derek just pulled him back to kiss him again. “Okay, well, more of that later!” Stiles patted his shoulders, pushing him away regretfully. Derek laughed and nodded, following Stiles out of the bathroom and back to their booth, where the rest of the pack was lounging until they saw Derek approach.

            “So someone explain to me what’s going on right now,” Derek said blandly, looking to the dark-haired girl in the booth that he didn’t know as he crossed his arms and remained standing next to Stiles, who had slid into the booth next to Isaac.

            “My name’s Zenana and I’m half Jahi demon and long story short, this…” she said with a gesture towards the dance floor and it’s overly excited inhabitants, “is basically my fault. Though I didn’t know that! This amulet I got was supposed to contain or at least dampen my powers so I was able to come out tonight but either it’s complete crap or something else is interfering with it,” she said, sounding frustrated and disappointed as she gestured to the gaudy necklace she was wearing. “I got it from the guy who owns the place; he has a shop on the third floor which is open during the day to the supernatural set. I should have known he wasn’t on the up-and-up when it was so inexpensive but I figured to not argue with it,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry for any awkwardness caused.”

            Derek didn’t feel up to getting angry with the girl and everyone else seemed pretty calm about her sitting with them. “Okay.”

            “It’s not like you meant to almost cause an orgy on the dance floor,” Stiles joked. “Right?”

            “Yeah, mostly I try to avoid using my powers as much as possible, they can tend to be a little… volatile,” Zenana said with a sheepish look, picking the label off of the beer she was nursing.

            “So Gregor sold you the piece?” Derek asked. “Have you seen him here tonight? I want to have a chat with our favorite club owner…”

            “No,” Zenana answered. “Though I haven’t been to the VIP upstairs at all, it’s not my scene.”

            “What’s upstairs?” Scott asked, chin resting on Allison’s shoulder as she was sitting on his lap.

            “It’s called the VIP lounge to the public but the only people who can get in are supernatural. In theory it’s nice, a place where you can be yourself without risking the human population noticing but it tends to get a little… intense. Not for the faint of heart or the inexperienced club go-er.”

            “I’ve heard of places like that before,” Derek explained, thinking of the party he had attended that one time in New York that had all manner of beings in attendance. Derek had almost gotten conned into drinking some pink fae drink before Laura had passed him a safe glass of wine. “Generally breaks all the rules we try to live by,” he said with disdain, remembering that the few humans that had been there were more like pets, especially to the vampires.

            “Yeah, no good comes from it really,” Zenana nodded.

            “Well, why don’t you and I go and see if we can’t entice him to come downstairs?” Lydia asked her.

            “I don’t think—“ Derek tried to interrupt.

            “It makes the most sense, in terms of seduction abilities to get him to come downstairs with us, as well as resistance to magic that may be up there,” Lydia explained to Derek. He knew she was right but he didn’t like sending his pack where they could be hurt. They should go together. Though at this point he knew better than to argue with Lydia and he had to admit that she knew what she was doing and could take care of herself.

            “Take Isaac with you,” Derek compromised, “just to be safe.” The beta was less obviously a threat than Boyd and had an easier time blending or doing whatever was necessary. The three of them left without any argument and Derek turned to Erica, who was now next to him. “Why don’t you and Boyd go dance, keep an eye out by the door for the VIP room. Jackson, go and keep Danny company at the bar,” Derek suggested, wanting everyone in pairs and spaced out in case it went south quickly. Scott and Allison got up to dance without needing the suggestion, leaving only Stiles and Derek in the booth. Derek finally sat next to Stiles with a tired sigh. He just wanted all of this to be done with so they could go home and rest.

            “You’re getting better at letting them do their own thing,” Stiles observed, patting Derek’s thigh absently. “It’s good to loosen the leash every once in awhile.”

            “Always with the dog jokes?”

            “Well, it’s just too easy I can’t resist,” Stiles laughed, eyes constantly scanning the room.

            Derek huffed, keeping an eye on the room as he downed the glass of water in front of him. He shifted a little to the left so his leg was no longer up against Stiles’ because he needed to pay attention to what was going on. Without even meaning to, the younger man was a constant distraction to Derek, mostly because all he could think about was kissing him again. With Zenana gone from the room, the effects of her demon powers were lessening but Derek figured it was just Stiles’ general allure, though Derek figured the shiny, leather-like pants Stiles was wearing did not help much. When almost a half hour had passed without word from Lydia or Isaac, Derek started to get antsy, for lack of a better word.

            “They’re fine,” Stiles said with a half smile, not even looking at Derek.

            “I didn’t--”

            “Uh huh. Isaac is coming downstairs anyway.”

            Derek stood and walked towards the curly-haired beta. “Where’s Lydia?” He asked when he reached him, Erica and Boyd on the other side of the bar.

            “She sent me to get you, we found Gregor and he’s upstairs in the office waiting to talk to you,” Isaac explained and pointed to a small corridor Derek hadn’t noticed before. “There’s another staircase there so you don’t have to go through the VIP room. The office is at the end of the hall.”

            “Thanks. Go see Danny and Jackson, keep an eye on things down here. The rest of us will be upstairs,” Derek explained, taking Stiles, Erica and Boyd with him. He smelled blood from just outside the door and slammed it open, staring when he saw the sorcerer tied to a small wooden chair, Lydia reclining in the leather chair behind the large desk her feet were propped up on, picking at her nails. Zenana was nowhere in sight.

            “What’s going on, Lyds?” Stiles asked with a raised brow, circling to where she was sitting and ignoring Gregor. The sorcerer reminded Derek of what a rat would look like if turned human and a bit… greasy. He had push pins sticking out from various places on his body, which explained the blood but not much more than that. Derek had seen the petite redhead do much worse, he just wondered what warranted the treatment.

            “He needed some persuasion,” Lydia shrugged. “He’s kindly agreed to leave town and never return, I was just waiting on your authorization,” she explained, looking to Derek.

            He looked to the whimpering man, leaning a bit to be eye level and letting his eyes go red. “You’re not welcome here,” he said simply, feeling anything else was unnecessary at this point. He figured the guy got the picture. He didn’t seem like the fighting type, more opportunistic and interested only in himself. Derek nodded his head at the betas to head out with Lydia and Stiles following behind. Derek took one last look at the guy and closed the door behind him.

            “Leaving him tied up is best until we’re out of here, just to be safe. Plus he deserved it,” Stiles frowned and Derek knew he was thinking of the poor humans in his father’s file that wouldn’t see proper justice. They couldn’t very well arrest the guy; he was a sorcerer and could easily break out of whatever mundane prison they put him in. Derek would go and see the Sheriff tomorrow and explain everything about Gregor as best he could.

             Everyone gathered their things and headed out after that, seeming to want to get home as much as Derek did. Danny, Lydia, Jackson and Isaac piled into the Yaris and Scott and Allison hopped into her car, seemingly unable to keep their lips apart for more than a moment. On the edge of his vision, he saw Stiles roll his eyes at the pair. Boyd and Erica were already in the back of the Camaro, leaving the front for Stiles and Derek. The quick ride back to the house was quiet, or quiet enough with Stiles and Erica bickering about whatever Batman comic they were both currently reading. Then it somehow morphed into an argument over clothes and then Rock Band was brought up, Derek was only half paying attention. When he pulled up he saw Danny and Isaac on the porch, having beat them back.

            “Lydia and Jackson are doing a duet,” Isaac rolled his eyes when they got out of the car, gesturing towards the open door to the living room. Now the Rock Band comments made more sense. Erica laughed, jumping up the stairs even in her heels. Danny pulled Isaac up to head inside with Boyd and Stiles followed behind, turning to seek out Derek when he reached the porch steps.

             “You okay?” Stiles asked him quietly, eyes worried.

             Derek nodded, fingers grazing the inside of Stiles’ wrist as he looked up at the younger man. “Yeah, just feeling out of sorts from the club. It’s not the kind of thing I like to do often with the sheer amount of people and music, it can be somewhat sensory overload without the added demons and sorcerers involved,” Derek explained, feeling better already just being on their territory. “I’m going to go for a quick walk, I’ll meet you inside?”

            “Okay, hurry back,” Stiles smiled at him, hand shoving Derek’s shoulder teasingly. Derek turned and ran what was considered the “inner perimeter” where Stiles and Lydia had made a bunch of wards, about a quarter of a mile in all directions from the house. It was what he did when he needed to clear his head, a habit he had gotten into especially when the pack were settled in for the night, like checking that the doors were locked and lights were off. Satisfied that everything was fine – as it usually was, Derek didn’t think anything was wrong he just liked to check anyway—he walked back to the house feeling refreshed, clear from the craziness of the club and wanting nothing more than to see Stiles.

             Who… was currently gyrating and standing on the sofa, singing loudly and slightly off-key to Duran Duran of all things. “Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd and I'm hungry like the wolf! Straddle the line in discord and rhyme, I'm on the hunt, I'm after you. Mouth is alive with juices like wine and I’m hungry like the woooooollffffff!” Derek just stared, trying not to laugh. Isaac was sprawled sideways in the recliner, laughing his ass off as Jackson kept trying to distract Danny from the drums he was playing. Erica was playing the guitar and despite Lydia’s constant questions directed toward her, was doing quite well it seemed. Leave it to his pack to make a fairly simple game into a big production and competition.

            Shaking his head with a laugh, he went up to his room and kicked off his boots, hanging his jacket on the back of the chair at his desk. He tossed his tank towards the bathroom and plugged his phone into the charger near his bed. Seeing his reflection in the mirror attached to the dresser, he groaned. Somehow he had gotten glitter on him without realizing it. Washing his face, he didn’t hear Stiles come in until the younger man was leaning against the doorjamb to his bathroom. “Hey, nice singing,” he said with a laugh, drying his face on a washcloth.

            “Don’t mock, we totally would’ve killed that song if not for Jackson,” Stiles said with an over-exaggerated pout, trying to contain his laughter. Derek stepped towards him and he noticed Stiles’ pulse jump. “Hey,” Stiles smirked, placing his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “I’m taller than you,” he teased, since Derek was now barefoot, the boots Stiles had on made up for the normal inch difference in their height. Derek captured his lips in a quiet but intense kiss, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist. He leaned his forehead against Stiles and smiled.

             “Let’s go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the delay! I was without a computer for a bit and that made it really hard to write. But we're back in business and I'm already halfway through the NEXT update so there won't be as much of a gap for the next chapter.
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> [HERE IS THE CLOTHING INSPIRATION FOR THEIR CLUB WEAR ON MY TUMBLR!!](http://trixafaerie.tumblr.com/post/42153559516/the-pack-goes-clubbing-in-the-next-chapter-of-my)
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> In case anyone cares about such things, I listened to a lot of She Wants Revenge when they were at the club because they have a lot of good dance-worthy tunes that are also really sexy-sounding and that was the vibe I was going for. Especially check out: [Tear You Apart](http://youtu.be/ixw_bLVUL34), [Out of Control](http://youtu.be/5gjYe61lkOI), [I Don't Wanna Fall In Love](http://youtu.be/uEJrAsymRlY), and [Written In Blood](http://youtu.be/YbeBLvMFAcs).
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> As with most sites, [I'm trixafaerie over at tumblr](http://trixafaerie.tumblr.com/), feel free to come say hi! (And/Or to pester me to write more!!)


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